Burdens to Bear
by Joon
Summary: A teenager seems to be manifesting as a wizard. But Harry finds it's a little more complicated and a lot more sinister. TVverse.
1. Chapter 1

Another multi-part fic that got stuck in my brain. Everyone cross your fingers and hope for a smooth ride!

* * *

Leaning over the bathroom sink, Aaron pulled the wad of toilet paper he'd been pressing against his nose. It wasn't as bloody as before, which was a good sign. Grimacing, the teen ran a tongue over his front teeth and noted with satisfaction that he still had all of his. He was pretty sure the other guy couldn't say the same. In fact, he was pretty sure Phil Marley had probably a grand's worth of dental work in front of him. But no doubt by Monday, Phil would be back in school, his teeth as pristine as before, having told his father the loss of two front teeth was the result of a wayward field hockey stick. Aaron's cheek still throbbed from where Phil had gotten in a punch.

_A sucker punch is what, _he thought, angrily.

It would be one thing to Aaron if Phil had confronted him before launching into a full on fist fight. But leaping out from the corner to land the first blow had been sneaky and underhanded. Much like Phil Marley himself. Thinking on it now, Aaron only wished he'd gotten in a last few kicks before he'd been pulled off.

_  
Trust Fund Fucker can't even fight fairly. _

The light above Aaron's head flickered suddenly and blew out, leaving the empty boys' bathroom a little darker. With a sigh, the teenager tossed the bloody tissues in the trash and picked up his uniform jacket from where he'd left it draped over the sink. The gold and blue school crest on his breast pocket was torn and hanging on by a few threads. Aaron remembered some duct tape he had left over at home and ripped off the crest completely and pushed it into his pocket to reattach later. He glanced at himself one last time in the mirror, shouldered his backpack and exited.

"Aaron, you okay?"

The student had gotten two steps before the familiar voice stopped him. Aaron grinned, despite his still sore cheek protesting. "Yeah, Phil just wanted to discuss a few things with me," he replied.

Like him, Neil was still dressed in their school's uniform, though unlike Aaron, Neil's jacket managed to look brand new despite being years old. The other senior studied the swollen nose and growing black eye and grimaced. "Discuss what? Your face's density to that of a wall?"

"You're a riot, Lancaster," Aaron ha ha'd with as much fake enthusiasm as he was capable. "Thanks to me, Marley's dentist's going to get himself a nice new car." It was a joke meant to wipe out the look on Neil's face, but it only persisted. "It was just a stupid fight," said Aaron. "Guy couldn't even win after sucker punching me."

"What did you say to him?" asked Neil.

"What makes you think I said anything?" Aaron demanded.

"Because you always say something, Aaron. It's not like Andy Barnes tried to kick your teeth in last week for nothing."

While Aaron knew in his mind it was true that Barnes most likely attacked him for making that crack about being a product of an incestuous union, he wasn't in the mood to hear Neil's very logical deductions. His face still hurt and now he had a headache to go alone with everything else. "Good to know you've got my back," he stated, coldly.

"Aaron, come on."

"I mean, it couldn't possible be that Phil took a swing at me because he's a dick."

"I didn't mean it like it was your fault," Neil defended. "Why're you getting so pissed?"

"Might have something to do with nearly eating some cement today," Aaron retorted. "And then getting interrogated by my best friend who's apparently siding with Phil Marley."

Neil crossed his arms in a defensive pose that was so characteristically him that it managed to not look ridiculous. "I'm not siding with anyone. Especially not Phil."

"So you agree he's a dick?"

"Dude, I've been going to the same school as Phil since we were in kindergarten. I _know _he's a dick. Guy ate my play doh when we were five."

At that, Aaron cracked a small smile. "Got news for you. He's still doing it."

Neil shook his head, but couldn't help the grin. "Explains a few things," he said, giving into the joke if it meant not having to continue arguing with Aaron. "You need a lift anywhere?" he asked. "Like a hospital?"

"It's not that bad," Aaron replied, rolling his eyes.

"So that's not blood on your shirt and tie?" said Neil, pointing to the stains on Aaron's clothes.

Aaron yanked off his tie and stuffed it in his pocket. "You've just got a low threshold for gore. This is nothing."

"Yeah, I forget. You're from south side," said Neil, sarcastically. "You sure you don't want a ride somewhere?"

"I gotta head to the library," said Aaron. He shrugged on his now crest-less jacket and buttoned it to hide most of the brown streaks on the white shirt front. He was pretty sure the school's librarian wasn't going to appreciate the idea of a bloodied student pawing through her books. "Papers to write."

"Papers?" Neil frowned a moment before realization dawned. "You're going to get caught one day, you know," he reprimanded lightly.

"Man's gotta make a living," Aaron shrugged. "We can't all have trust funds."

It was Neil's turn to roll his eyes at the constantly made statement. "Whatever. You're welcome to swing by later for dinner if you want. Unless you need to be home."

"Hm, let's see," Aaron mused. "Your mom's brisket or watching Diane's face time with Jack Daniels at Casa del Fuller. This is a tough one."

Neil grinned. "I'll see you at six."

"Later, Lancaster," Aaron waved off before leaving to head toward the library. Turning to walk in the opposite direction, Neil pulled out his cell phone to make a quick call and realized the thin electronic had died. He pressed on a few buttons to no avail, frowning as he was sure he'd charged it only this morning. Flipping it over, he pulled out the battery and saw the metal itself was burnt and blackened.

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

It had been a debate for Harry whether or not to take his car. Chicago was having a particularly sunny day so the wizard had thought a walk to his latest client's house might be nice. But now, having to walk all the way back to his apartment, carrying his hockey stick while being conspicuously covered in pixie guts, he berated himself for not just driving. With each step, he could hear the faint squelch of what were probably the remnants of a pixie's digestive system in his shoe. And the wind was starting to dry the bluish gore in his hair.

_God, I'm going to need to shower for the next week. _The wizard felt something globular and cold run down from the nape of his neck, down the back of his shirt. _Make that a month.  
_

The only things on Harry's person that weren't stained blue were the very green bills his client had handed over for exterminating the annoying things from the garage. The wizard made a mental note to ask Bob when he got back and de-contaminated himself if there was any other way to get rid of pixies that wasn't quite as explosive with such a high splatter factor. But for all his troubles, Harry did have some money now, though he wondered how much of it would have to go into dry cleaning. It might be cheaper to just buy a new jacket.

As he continued to have this debate to keep his mind off the strange looks he was getting, Harry rounded the corner onto his street. The wizard never felt so happy to see his door and the promise of a shower. Only there was someone standing outside the locked storefront. Harry eyed the kid who looked about 18 or so, loitering by the door. Even from this distance, the wizard could tell the boy looked a little uncomfortable and was only hesitantly tapping at the window pane, peering in.

"Can I help you?" asked Harry, walking up behind him.

The younger man turned around and started at Harry's appearance. Behind him, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his window and saw the gunk on his head had hardened and sculpted his hair into a mass of pointy spikes.

"Um…are you Harry Dresden? The wizard?" asked the teenager, hesitantly.

"Yeah, that's me," Harry answered, tiredly. Reaching past him, he unlocked his door after several attempts with his slime-covered keys and let himself in. To his annoyance, the teen followed him in. "Listen, kid, I don't know what fraternity hazing you're doing this for, but I've had a rough day. So if you can come back tomorrow you can try and steal all the frogs' eyes you want," Harry said.

Instead of leaving, the teenager only shouldered his backpack. "I'm not in a fraternity," he said. "I'm still in high school."

Harry dumped his wet hockey stick on the floor, making sure it was far away from his rug. He took another look at the kid and saw that the new arrival was wearing what could be a prep school uniform with the navy blazer, emblazed with a crest on his breast pocket. The pressed clothing along with his neatly brushed dark hair, gave him an overall tidy appearance that reminded Harry all the more that he was currently covered in blue slime. And while clients were something the wizard couldn't really afford to turn away, at the moment he was willing to put anything on hold to just wash the supernatural massacre off of himself.

"I don't do love potions and I don't have any spells to help you cheat on tests," he listed, pulling off his jacket and dropping it next to his staff. "You're gonna have to get a prom date and pass a test the hard way."

"I'm not here for that," said the teenager, finally sounding annoyed.

"So what are you here for?"

"A friend of mine might be in trouble," he said.

Harry paused in prying off one of his shoes to study the younger man with a little more scrutiny. "What kind of trouble?"

The teen hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, uneasily. "It's…it's a little weird."

"Weird is usually the normal in my line of work."

"Yeah, that's kind of why I thought maybe you could help him," he nodded.

"So define weird," said Harry, trying to toe his other shoe off at the heel.

The younger man pressed his lips together, hesitating again as he fought to choose his words carefully. "Well," he began. "I think I saw Aaron set fire to our headmaster's car….uh…with his mind."

Harry's shoe hit the floor with a muffled thud. The wizard blinked, taking in the information. Finally, he reached down to pull off one of his socks. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Neil Lancaster," answered Neil.

"Okay, Neil Lancaster," nodded Harry. "Have a seat over there." He gestured toward a wooden chair with his sock-filled hand. "Give me a minute to wash some of this stuff off and we'll have a talk."


	2. Chapter 2

Whenever Neil found himself in unfamiliar territory, he tended to follow instructions and orders issued out to him to the letter. So it was in his mind to remain glued to the chair until Mr. Dresden returned. But the longer he remained still, the more and more he got the feeling that someone was watching him. Still, every time he glanced to his right where he felt the stare was coming from, the only thing looking at him was a shelf full of books.

Finally, Neil stood up to walk off his own antsy-ness. Wandering around, he noticed that there were candles everywhere, along with several knick knacks that could have easily come from a Hot Topic catalog that his older sister had been so crazy about several years back. The very cheesy Wiccan-looking paraphernalia didn't do much to bolster Neil's confidence that this was a smart move on his part. He had originally gone searching for someone who might be an expert in the paranormal and had more or less stumbled upon the ad for Chicago's only self-proclaimed wizard. In reading the small advertisement over, Neil had told himself that it might take a freak to explain to him the very freakish things he'd been seeing of late.

Neil wasn't sure if he should take Mr. Dresden showing up covered in what looked like Smurf blood as a good sign or a bad sign as to how authentic he was. Surely no one covered themselves in blue sludge JUST to bring in business. When the student circled back to his seat, he noticed for the first time that there was what looked like a human skull sitting on the main desk. He was working up the nerve to touch it to see if it was real when he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

While Harry wouldn't have minded another two hours in the shower, he felt exercising some professional behavior was in order. Even if this kid was just messing around or had an overly active imagination. Besides, he was pretty sure he'd gotten the worst off of him, though his fingernails were still tinted blue. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Harry apologized as he walked back to the storefront.

"That's alright," Neil replied, politely.

"So, why don't you tell me about your friend," Harry said as he sat down on the chair opposite from Neil.

"I think it started a couple of weeks ago," Neil began. "But that was only when I noticed it. It might have been happening before that." Harry nodded, giving him the silent permission to continue. "I thought maybe I was seeing things. We were in class once and it looked like Aaron made a pencil go flying at Professor Guren's head." 

"You sure he didn't just throw it?" asked Harry.

"That's what I thought maybe happened," Neil agreed. "But other things kept happening. We went to the library once to do some research and I swear half the computer monitors burnt out when he sat down. And then last week Aaron got into a fight. Our headmaster called him and the other guy in. Aaron was pretty pissed about it. Said it was Ditko's fault," Neil added.

"Was it Ditko's fault?" Harry didn't think it really mattered, but asked anyway out of curiosity.

A slightly stubborn look came across Neil's face. "Probably. Not that it mattered. If it's Aaron versus another guy, nine times out of ten Agent Smith will put the blame on Aaron."

"Agent Smith?"

"Our headmaster. His name's Rodney Smith," Neil clarified. Harry gave him a blank look. "The Matrix." The blank look continued. "Um…the movie? The main villain's called Agent Smith?"

"I don't watch too many movies," Harry explained.

"Oh…right." Any awkwardness was felt only by Neil as Harry had grown accustomed to pauses caused by the lapses in his knowledge of popular culture.

"Why would your headmaster usually put the blame on Aaron if it wasn't his fault?"

"Because he's an easy scapegoat," said Neil, looking offended for his friend. "Ditko's dad donated half a million to the school last year to build the new science wing. If it were you, would you pull in that guy's kid or the kid whose mom works as a maid at the Red Roof Inn?"

Harry took another look at the blazer that Neil was wearing. "You go to a prep school, I'm guessing?"

"Hartfield Academy," answered Neil. "Anyway, we were going to my car afterwards and Aaron was ranting about it. We were passing by the faculty lot when he was shouting and that's when it happened. To Age- Headmaster Smith's car."

"It blew up."

"No," Neil shook his head. "It caught fire. The flames just shot up from the hood of the car. No explosion or anything like that. Just flames."

Harry carefully searched the younger boy's face to see if there was any hint of him acting and this all being some elaborate prank. But as guileless went, Neil Lancaster's face was the textbook definition of the word. What the student had described to Harry sounded like the typical things that occurred when one began to manifest as a wizard and was painfully unaware of how to control his or her burgeoning abilities. Harry remembered destroying about six different TV sets in six different motels when he'd been on the road with his father and only just learning what he was.

But much like himself, there was a good chance Aaron already knew what was happening to him. 

"Does Aaron know you're here to see me?" asked Harry, working up to his next question.

To his surprise, Neil showed himself to be more perceptive than the wizard had given him credit for. "Aaron doesn't know what's going on. Not about me coming here and not about what's happening to him," he stated. Seeing the look on Harry's face, Neil smirked. "I know what you're thinking, but I know Aaron. He was genuinely freaked out about the fire. Plus he gets these headaches."

"Headaches?" Harry frowned. That wasn't normal. 

Neil nodded. "I know he tries to play them down, but he goes through aspirins like Tic Tacs these days."

"Does he have them all the time?"

"It seems like it. But he had almost a migraine after the fire thing."

Harry thought for a moment. If Aaron did have magic in his blood, it meant at least one of his parents had powers as well. And one of them should have at least prepped their son for what was coming or see the signs. Unless of course Aaron's case was similar to Scott Sharp's. "Is Aaron by any chance adopted?" he asked.

"No, definitely not," Neil answered. The smirk was back, but looked a shade more cynical. "Though I'm sure Aaron wouldn't mind it. He and his mom don't really get along."

"What about him and his dad?"

"Even less. His dad split before Aaron was born."

"Does Aaron talk to him at all?"

"He doesn't know who he is," said Neil. "Aaron's mom doesn't really…she doesn't really like talking about his dad." It seemed like for a minute that Neil was going to say something else, but had decided to amend his words at the last minute. He caught the questioning stare on Harry's face. "Aaron's mom's…got kind of a drinking problem," he said, uneasily. "She's not really someone you talk to."

Neil had only met her once when he'd driven to Aaron's house, unannounced to invite his friend out. Aaron's mother had opened the door, mostly still wearing her housekeeping uniform, holding a half empty bottle of scotch. After that, Aaron had refused to speak to him for a week.

In his mind, Harry put a small star next to Aaron's father on his mental list of leads to look into, should this turn into anything. "How does Aaron go to your school on a single parent's salary?" he asked. "Is he on a scholarship?"

"Full scholarship," Neil replied. "He's the smartest one in our class." While Aaron's grades were good and probably the only things keeping him in the school despite his disciplinary problems, Neil had a feeling half the time Aaron only worked as hard as he did to show up the other students. Almost all the kids at Hartfield flaunted their money in Aaron's face, whether it be out of spite or out of general ignorance that money was something a person didn't have. And if Aaron couldn't match them in finances, he'd at least outrun them in academics.

"So, what do you think?" asked Neil. "Is this something…you handle?"

Harry thought about it. From what Neil had described, it seemed Aaron was exhibiting some sort of powers, though the headaches seemed to suggest that the powers were not entirely natural. Still, there was a chance that Aaron's missing father could have been a wizard whose departure would mean he'd left his son uneducated for what he might develop in the future. But no true wizard ever experienced pain or headaches when working with their magic. And the fact that Aaron was in his late teens and only now just manifesting abilities also lifted a red flag. It was possible that Aaron might have gotten himself involved in something a little out of his league. There were ways a normal human could conduct a little magic through less than appropriate means.

But either way, it was something he handled. 

"I'll need to see Aaron myself," said Harry. "Can you bring him by here?"

Neil nodded. "We can come after classes. Around four?"

"That's fine."

"Thank you, Mr. Dresden," said Neil, sincerely. "And we should probably discuss your fee."

"I haven't agreed yet to taking the case," Harry stated. "I'm seeing your friend to evaluate whether or not you need my help." Although Harry was already halfway there in thinking either Neil or Aaron definitely needed his help. But he also felt a little low at taking money from a high school student.

"Don't you have a set advance your clients pay?" Neil questioned.

Harry blinked. "Uh…that's not really an issue here…" he trailed off at the frown on the younger boy's face.

"It's standard business practice for contractors to obtain a percentage of their fees. For expenses at least," Neil stated, sounding suddenly older and oddly more experienced than the wizard. "You don't do that?" The tone of his question easily asked how it was Harry even remained in business.

"You say you're still in high school?" asked Harry, incredulously.

"My dad's planning on handing his company over to me. He started training me early," Neil waved off. "Your fees?" He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a checkbook that looked a lot fatter than the one sitting in Harry's desk drawer. "What's your daily rate?"

"It's five hundred a day, but this might not require me to-"

The wizard's words were ignored as Neil scribbled out a check and tore it to hand to Harry. "This is for two days," he said. "If it doesn't take you that long than I'll take back half. Fair?"

Harry stared at the very authentic looking check. "You sure you can afford this?" he asked.

"It won't bounce," Neil assured. "You want to see a bank statement as proof?"

"No, it's not that," said Harry. "It's just…you're what? 18?"

"17," Neil corrected.

"And you've got a grand to give me right up front?"

"I've got a grand to give you right up front," Neil agreed, putting his checkbook away. "I go to Hartfield. I've got a classmate who owned her own sailing boat when she was 15. Another one's family has a castle in Scotland."

"I think the most expensive thing I owned when I was 15 was a pair of dress shoes," Harry commented.

At that, Neil grinned. "Having money's not bad. But I'd rather use it to help out a friend than buy myself a new car."

"I'm sure Aaron'll appreciate it."

Actually, Neil was pretty sure Aaron would kill him once he found out he was footing the bill. The vast difference in their lifestyles was what oddly made them friends to begin with while simultaneously causing awkward moments. Unlike most of the other trust fund students who had viewed the new scholarship kid with a mix of fascination, pity and snobbery, Neil had just been glad to meet someone he had not gone to the same private schools with for his entire life. But the more he had interacted with Aaron, he had realized he genuinely liked him. And as the end of high school now approached, he was confident that out of everyone, Aaron would be the one person he'd remain friends with for the rest of his life.

But as confident as Neil was about their friendship, he knew there was a core unhappiness in Aaron that he kept to himself at all times. Though it seemed these days as they were readying to enter into the next phase of their lives that Aaron's disgruntlement was growing worse. And this new problem or illness or whatever it was probably wasn't helping.

But for now in reply to the wizard's statement, Neil only smiled and got up from his seat, re-shouldering his bag. "We'll see you at four tomorrow," he promised.


End file.
